A Tale Of Shadows (Wattys 2023) - REPLACED BY DIVINE ASCENSION

Chapter 3 - Trapped

"We'll settle quick," Patrick said when they'd reached the top of the stairwell. "I'll only grab a small cup of coffee to get rid of my sleepiness. Want one?"

"I prefer tea, thank you," Melinda responded plainly.

"I prefer coffee because it has more flavour, but I understand," Patrick said with a shrug. "There are many types of tea in the world, and therefore there's something for almost everyone. What's your favourite type of tea?"

"Chamomile," Melinda responded without skipping a beat. "What's your favourite type of coffee?"

"Plain black, without any sugar."

"Of course," she remarked in a voice bereft of emotion.

Neither of them said anything for a while before continuing to walk across the hallway. It was completely silent, except for the rotten oaken floorboards that creaked at each and every single step. Their footsteps echoed all throughout the area, especially hers, for she was used to walking forcefully. The endless vanilla walls were covered with shadows every inch of the way because the curtains were closed and the candles unlit, only a few rays of the sun creeping in from the outside. After what to her seemed like an eternity, they'd reached her room.

For a while, she stood right before the door like a statue, forcing him to drag her inside. The moment she was dragged in, she observed that, just like the rest of the house, the room was unassuming. 

Among the still neverending vanilla walls and creaking oaken floorboards, there was a circular rug in the middle of room with triangles that went brown-white-brown-white and so on; a tall plant in a clay pot in every corner of the room; a window on the opposite wall from the door that was covered by a black curtain, as well as a picture for each wall except the one where the door resided - one of a sunflower, one of an autumn forest and one of a shipwreck. She wasn't sure what those pictures represented and was mildly curious about it, but she had no time to waste on some stupid pictures either. 

In short, every bit of her surroundings looked unassuming, including the man himself. He'd blend right into a crowd with his plain dark blue robe, average height, clean-cut brown hair, thin pinkish lips and black shoes. There wouldn't be anything outstanding about his appearance if it weren't for his face. It was common for him to bear a serene smile on it, and when taken out of context, that smile looked trustworthy, benevolent even. 

Even when he did the most depraved of things, and when those things were expressed upon his face, the air of benevolence remained, as if he possessed some sort of unnatural charisma. And those eyes, too... They were a striking shade of blue, invoking an immediate impression upon all those who gazed into them. That mark of a great person that she saw in herself as well, that mark helped tell a meaningful story from appearance alone.

"Why are you staring at me?" he said coldly, snapping her out of her thoughts. She could not believe how defeated she felt already, but it wasn't time to lament. She had to give a good answer.

"Oh, I was only wondering what kind of monster you have to be to do this to my parents," she said through gritted teeth, glaring at him with utter hatred. "They did nothing to you. They never do any harm to anyone. They're innocent old people who just happened to give birth to me, but I suppose that their happiness was too much to bear, you knave. I can't imagine how horribly they must be doing now."

"Come and see them," he said, yanking her by her right hand, but she easily pushed him away.

"No. Not now," she said, cold sweat crawling down her back. "I'll visit them tomorrow. It'll be much easier that way, for them, of course."

"Sure, whatever you say," he deadpanned, leaving her alone in the room. The moment he was gone, she knelt on the floor, buried her face in her hands and released the most powerful sobs she could muster, crying until there were no tears left.